


Forever and Always

by Barcardivodka



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Orgasm Control, gallya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:57:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6042352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcardivodka/pseuds/Barcardivodka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tried to tell himself that he was content with the way things were. That the attention Gaby lavished on him was enough</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever and Always

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this story came from - don't tend to stray into the 'explicit' arena of story telling.
> 
> With many thanks to Jay and Som for the beta - thankfully they couldn't see me blush!

 

Illya Kuryakin had, on more than one occasion, been tortured. He had suffered days of brutality to try to make him talk, to betray his comrades, his country. He had never submitted and had killed every single person who had ever laid a cruel hand on him. What he was enduring now, however, was too much to bear. He would happily and eagerly tell his tormentor whatever they wanted to know, spill his innermost secrets, the deeds he had done, the anguish and pain he had suffered.

But he was never asked a question. He was only given commands, and praise when he obeyed.

He almost sobbed in frustration as the pressure on his cock disappeared, his orgasm yet again denied. He was tied spread-eagle in the centre of a bed. Soft, padded leather cuffs encircled his wrists and ankles. There would be no bruises or rope burns as he tugged against his restraints. All the pain was in his cock and balls tempered only by waves of intense pleasure. He knew his awareness was starting to slip away, his mind focused on the pleasure and pain between his legs and the hands that touched his body with a possessiveness that made him want to weep with need. But he fought the sensation, more out of habit than any desire to deny it.

Small, gentle fingers carded through his sweat-soaked hair and he opened eyes that he hadn’t realised he’d closed.

Gaby smiled down at him. It was the smile that no-one else ever saw, it was only ever directed at him.  “Let yourself go,” she whispered.

He shook his head. He knew he would though. He always did what Gaby asked of him. Since they had become lovers, she had taken the lead when it came to their sex life. She had awakened a passion in him that he hadn’t realised he’d possessed.

He’d been taught that sex was a distraction. It was a tool to gain information or influence over someone. Masturbation was the preferred KGB method of dealing with such … urges. Illya hadn’t been entirely inexperienced; however, his ‘conquests’ had all been women training in the art of seduction, or ‘honeypot’ as Cowboy called it.  The sex had been clinical, often with an audience watching, and was based more on technique and position than actual seduction.

Illya now understood Cowboy’s obsession with it, although Illya only wanted to be with Gaby. The thought of sleeping with anyone else held no appeal.

He gasped as Gaby’s hand wrapped round his cock again and started a slow slide up and down, a thumb flickering over the oversensitive head. He bucked up into the hand and then cried out as Gaby tapped his balls with her other hand. Pain turned to immeasurable pleasure.

Illya was desperate to come, to make the pulsing ache in his balls go away. It seemed like Gaby had kept him on edge for hours, denying him a climax time and time again.  He wouldn’t beg for release; he knew Gaby would bring him to completion in her own time. His orgasms were no longer under his control. He only came when Gaby allowed it. Part of him had been shocked that he would enjoy being tied down, giving himself body and soul to another person. He’d been doubtful the first time she’d suggested it, but he had climaxed so hard that he’d come to with a worried Gaby tapping his face.

Illya loved Gaby with all his heart, but he feared saying the words to her. He doubted that such a vibrant, strong, beautiful woman could love him back, and he tried to tell himself that he was content with the way things were. That the attention Gaby lavished on him was enough. It wasn’t just sexual. She would always hold his hand when they were walking side by side. She courted his opinion when she went shopping for clothes. She would tend to his injuries no matter how much he protested and then kiss him on the forehead when she had finished. Illya stored it all away, tucking it deep inside of himself where no else could reach it, ready for the day when Gaby broke his heart and all he had left were those precious golden memories.

He blinked as a hand brushed against his cheek. He looked into brown eyes that shone with desire. Gaby moved and he surged against his bonds as she lowered herself onto his throbbing cock.

“You can’t come until I do,” she commanded.

“Gaby!” He cried out in desperation. It was too much, he was too close.

Illya dug his heels into the bed as Gaby rode him hard and fast, her fingers rubbing at her clit. Time lost all meaning as he fought his body to obey Gaby’s command.

He felt her slick, inner walls clench around him and then everything went white.

Illya blinked several times as the world came back into focus. Gaby lay beside him, her head on his shoulder and the sheets pulled up and tucked around them. He moved his arm to pull her closer to him, noticing that the cuffs were still around his wrists, but no longer tied to the ropes.

Gaby tenderly grabbed his wrist and rubbed a hand over the smooth leather.

“When you let me put the cuffs on you, I knew that you loved me,” she said, moving so that she could look up at him. Illya stiffened at her words, dreading what may come next. “But I loved you long before that.”

Illya looked at her in surprise. “You love me?” he blurted out.

Gaby propped herself up on one elbow and bent down to kiss him. “Of course I love you,” she smiled. “Do you think we could share this kind of pleasure if we didn’t love and trust one another?”

“I thought maybe I was just … convenient. I was just passing … fancy.” He frowned as he tried to remember if that was the correct expression Cowboy had used when a rich, older widow had pursued the American.

Gaby sighed. “Illya, we’ve been going out for over a year, not just having sex. You’re my boyfriend, not some handy gigolo for when I feel horny.” She brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You belong to me now, Illya Kuryakin, forever and always.”

Illya felt something loosen deep within him as the warmth of happiness spread unchecked through him. Gaby smiled at him. That smile only for him, that he adored so much, full of promise and possessiveness. Gaby snuggled back against his side, her fingers wrapped round his leather bound wrist.

“Maybe we could get married?” He held his breath, wondering if he had pushed too far. He never thought he’d find a woman to love him, let alone wish to marry him. He knew he was being greedy, wanting both. Gaby’s love would always be enough. She was an independent woman; she didn’t need to wear a man’s ring, to take his name. Illya felt his heart start to pound, knowing he’d make a mistake in voicing his long wished for desire.

Gaby hummed against him. “Yes,” she replied. “I’d like that. I could keep you naked and tied to my bed, ready to pleasure me whenever I wanted.”

“This I would like too.” Illya hugged Gaby tightly to him, as relief flooded through him. He could feel her smile against his chest.

His last thought, as he slipped into sleep, was to wonder how, after a lifetime of hardship and sorrow, his life had become one of love and happiness.

  



End file.
